//------------------------------// // Chapter 60 // Story: The Last Descendant // by Cup of Coffee //------------------------------// Time passed quickly for Magnus while staying in Hollow Shades. Having a job, albeit a temporary one, was a fruitful way to make the days pass effortlessly. It also helped that he learned a few things regarding the metalworking trade, not enough to be an apprentice, but enough to know the difference between two similar yet different tools. The days he returned straight to the castle, he would help Brilliant make dinner and together the two would eat and talk about each other's day. Magnus spoke of his work while Brilliant relayed her recent visit into town and the latest bit of news, although, as small towns went, little actually happened except for the latest gossip. Almost every single day she would head into town, meet with old friends over a cup of tea or two and some sugary pastry, or she would visit the local senior’s club. Not an old folks’ home, mind you, but a place for the elderly to meet up and do something together.  Despite her advanced age, Brilliant Star was far from helpless and got around town in her magically powered cart and was a familiar sight in the small dark town. In their conversations, Brilliant would tell Magnus about their family’s history. Achievements, past fame and glory, heroics — all bits of information that helped Magnus paint a clearer picture of what the pony side of his family was like and had done. As time went by, it became clear to Magnus that the Galaxy family was once an important building stone in Equestrian history and that was something that the old mare was actually proud of, although their deeds meant little to Magnus. After all, he was such a recent addition that he would feel embarrassed to claim their achievements as his own. And then there were the days that Magnus would not return to the castle, not right away anyway. He liked to walk around town and explore, and had gotten quite familiar with the little Tim Burton-esque hamlet, and in turn the citizens had gotten used to seeing him around. He still drew some looks and curious stares, but as they decreased as the days progressed. As each day drew closer to his final day at the smithy, Magnus’ thoughts drifted towards Canterlot and what he had planned for himself there. He already knew that he was allowed to stay at Canterlot Castle as a guest to Celestia and Luna for as long as he wanted, but having a place for himself meant having a home. Magnus liked the privacy of his own home, having become a homeowner at quite a young age. Even a bit worn, his house back in Montana was still his own. A man's home was his castle, as the saying went. A job was first on his list of priorities. With a job, he could afford everything else. He couldn’t find one in Canterlot if he stayed in Hollow Shades, so he had begun thinking of going back to the capital. Hollow Shades was pleasant and Brilliant was a nice old mare and a gracious host, but Magnus had to think ahead. Fall had arrived, coloring the forest in shades of red and orange. It wouldn’t be long before the first snow fell, and by that time, he hoped he’d have settled in somewhere, a true new start in this magical world. But the final day at the smithy had finally come and so was Magnus' punishment, two weeks of labour to pay for the cameras he had destroyed. He had admitted to himself that he’d overreacted that day, but he couldn’t say he was sorry for breaking the cameras or scaring the ponies. Sometimes enough was enough. The last day at the metalworkers shop was like any other day, and when he walked out the doors, it was without fanfare, just friendly waves and parting well wishes. As far as Magnus could see, the smithy would’ve worked just fine without him. All he had done was menial labour anyway. And with that, he headed back to the castle.   ***   “Brilliant, I’ve been thinking.” The old unicorn looked up from her bowl of tomato soup which she had made for the two of them, a small meal that would last until later that morning. She and Magnus had been invited over to Hammerstrike and his herd's home for dinner, a plan a few days in the making. “Oh?” Magnus nodded. “I think it’s time for me to return to Canterlot. I need to find a job there, and a place to stay.” Brilliant didn’t look surprised. “I figured you would go back sometime soon,” she said, scooping up a spoonful. “But honestly, I would have liked to keep you here for just a while longer.” “I would have liked to stay longer too, but I have to find a job soon,” Magnus replied. “I’ve certain things I need to take care of before the weather grows colder, especially when it comes to clothes, but also to realize my plans for a place of my own.” Brilliant nodded. “I understand. You will also need winter fuel, cooking utensils, furniture and the like. Can’t sleep on the floor, you know.” “Depending on what kind of job I find, I won’t rule it out. I can sleep on a couch if needed, provided the couch is big enough for me.” “A proper bed is important. You are still just a colt; you need a good night's sleep.” Brilliant smiled warmly. Magnus shrugged. “With my luck, I might have to settle for a mattress. Worst case scenario, I’ll have to stay at Celestia and Luna’s for longer than I thought.” Brilliant nodded and went back to her soup, finishing off the small amount that remained. Afterwards, she dabbed her lips with a cloth napkin.  “You told me about your home a while back. You grandfather, Joseph was it? He moved to his cabin and sold you his house, is that right?” “He did. Just a thousand ~dollars~; he wanted me to have a good start in life and not drown in debt. One thing I can say about Grandpa, he wasn’t greedy, never ever. The money I paid him was just enough for him to cover his moving expenses to his cabin. I’m sure he planned it all in advance.” Magnus laughed. “My house wasn’t really a mansion, but a place that felt like home,” he finished, going silent and thoughtful for a few brief moments as his smile faded ever so slightly, eyes on his bowl, idly stirring his soup.  “I had such plans for it once upon a time, you know.” Magnus sighed, thinking back. He grew up in his house and it had always felt like home. Maintenance and repairs wasn't something he could afford right away after he bought him, but he was determined to fix it anyway. “A new coat of paint; a warm red color, but I had to change the wood siding first. I had already changed the roof. One of my neighbors had terracotta roof tiles in a nice reddish-brown color that looked nice in the evening sunlight, almost like it was glowing. I was lucky to find some cheap shingles in the same color, but it wasn’t the same. A couple of years spent saving up some cash, and I could’ve torn down the old inside walls and set up new ones. I wanted white walls in the kitchen—would've looked nice with the old wood cabinets I already had, and maybe a very light blue for the living room.” Letting out another sigh, Magnus scooped up the last few spoonful's of soup and swallowed. Brilliant looked at the young man. Ever since he had come to her castle, she had learned how to read him, his facial expressions and the emotions they conveyed. She had travelled far and wide in her day and seen and met many different creatures, more than most ponies had seen, and she knew that it was longing written all over it. “You sound as if you’ll never get to experience having a home of your own again.” Magnus looked up and found the old unicorn smiling at him, shaking her head at him. “We all have dreams. Some are born in our younger years and some while we are old. Some might never come true while others are far easier to achieve. From what I have learned about you, who you are and what you are, I can tell that you will one day have a home, one that is your dream home. You are young and far stronger than many I have met in my long life, and your mind and will are your greatest strengths. After all you’ve been through, you still carry on, even after all you’ve lost. A house to truly call home is easy in comparison. That is how I know you will one day have the home of your dreams. You will not give up so easily.” Magnus looked at Brilliant, a small smile growing on his lips. “Thank you, Brilliant.” While he did appreciate her words, he didn’t have the same positive outlook on his own life as she did. While his first start as a homeowner was relatively easy, starting over from nothing was a far greater challenge, especially when you didn’t have anything but the clothes on your back, and not all of them had he paid for by himself. Brilliant began cleaning up after her and Magnus helped. The dishes were done in a matter of moments. After they were done, Brilliant let out a small yawn. “Goodness me, I think I need a nap if I’m going to make it until we leave for town and Hammerstrike’s dinner invitation. Would you wake me up in, say, an hour and a half?” “Of course,” Magnus replied. Brilliant always woke up early and wasn’t one to sleep in. It hadn’t happened while he was here anyway. The old mare then walked into the main hall and levitated herself up the staircase, and the last Magnus heard was her hooves on the carpeted floor and the door to her bedroom closing. Now alone, Magnus decided to head into the gallery and spend some time there. It was without a shadow of a doubt his favourite room in the castle. It was like a museum, filled with all kinds of things that tickled his fancy. You could walk around for hours and just look at things or find something to read. Just then, a familiar sound came from his pocket. His mobile phone, now a sentient diminutive electric being on behalf of Discord, emitted a message notification tone whenever it wanted to walk instead of being carried around in his pocket. The first time it had happened was over a week ago during work, and Magnus became frantic, believing that somehow he managed to get a mobile signal from Earth and a message. While he was deeply disappointed when he found out the truth, he could hardly fault his phone. After all, the little guy was quite lonely. Who talked to their phone as if it was a very smart pet? “There you go, just don’t break anything,” Magnus warned his phone as he set it down on the floor, well aware of who the one responsible for animating it was. He received a thumbs up in reply, and the phone wandered around like a guest at the Smithsonian, only watching, never touching, with its little stick-figure-like arms resting behind its back. Surprisingly, he had gotten used to the little guy in a surprisingly short time and to know its quirks. Most of the time, the phone spent its time dormant in his pocket or left on the nightstand, listening to music stored on the phone or playing games stored on it, its favourite being Flappy Bird and Angry Birds. But now and then, it got restless. It didn’t get into or make much trouble, just walked about. The first time Brilliant had found the phone wandering on its own was when Magnus was working. The phone and the old mare hit it well off almost from the start, and by the time Magnus had returned from work, the phone was showing Brilliant pictures and video clips stored on it, some of them Magnus was sure he had deleted long ago but the phone somehow found them. While nothing egregious, the pictures and videos she saw were enough for her wanting to know more about the life Magnus lived on Earth, which provided a lot of topics during mealtimes. “And no Discord-like shenanigans either!” The phone turned around and showed an emoji on its screen. “:-p” “Smartass.” But his electro-chaotic companion had a point. The gallery had more than just a vast collection of literature. Equestrian history in the form of paintings, tapestry, and glass display cases with various artifacts, safely stored behind glass, told stories of a culture going further back in time than the pyramids of Egypt. Looking up at the walls and its vast collection of paintings, Magnus let his eyes drift from painting to painting. Ponies long gone and some more recent, there was even that one of a mare that held some strange resemblance to his mother. Even now he found the similarity odd, that certain facial features somehow translated from human to pony. It made him think for a moment: what would he look like if he was a pony. Would he even recognize himself in the mirror? Would a 100% normal human look at a pony and see the same as him or would they see something else, something more animalistic? It was an odd thought for sure, but he was quite certain that turning into a pony was possible. After looking at the portraits for a while, Magnus decided to investigate the display cases. He had taken a browse days earlier, but never really investigated them in depth. The main showcase was to the right of the room; a large glass case holding a complete suit of armour, gilded with silvered details, scrollwork, engraved sun, moon, and star patterns. The suit was meant to cover as much of the body as possible, and with the suit being full plate, there weren’t many weak spots on it. The helmet had a worn and faded red plume on top and holes for the ears and six metal blades arranged in a circle around the hole for the horn for added protection. The faceplate had a number of symmetrical holes to allow for breathing and two narrow slits allowed the wearer to see. The armour also had a large matching oval shield made in the same type of material and style resting beside the suit. The shield appeared to be meant to be held sideways to cover as much of the pony as possible, as the grip was mounted opposite from how a human would hold it.  With the shield also came a short sword, made in the same style as the armour and shield, looking similar to a long gladius, although possessing no wooden parts or leather wrapped handle. The handguard was made of one large flat piece of the same material as the shield, and the handle was dull like aged silver but finely engraved with ancient letters that Magnus couldn’t read. Lastly, a masterpiece of a spear was the final piece that was made of the same material and style as the aforementioned armour and weaponry. Consisting of a narrow leaf-shaped spearhead and two smaller spikes protruding from the base of the spearhead, the spear appeared to be less stylish than the shield, sword, and armour. Hanging on the wall above the display case containing the armour was an old painting of the pony whose armour it belonged to, since in the painting he was wearing it too, with the shield resting beside him, his sword in a scabbard around his barrel and the spear resting over his shoulder with one foreleg on the haft. A small brass plaque on the frame identified him as Count Nova Shine. He was a unicorn of course, with a long and narrow horn and long red mane which matched his tawny-orange coat. He looked quite young on the portrait, perhaps early thirties as far as Magnus could tell, despite his problem telling ponies’ ages. The unicorn was depicted with a look of pride and haughtiness, reminiscent of English Royalty during Tudor Era England, especially the famous portrait of Henry VIII. During Magnus’ stay with Brilliant, the two of them had spent considerable time and many late mornings talking about almost every subject under Equestrian skies. Even the topic of pony warfare had popped up a couple of times, due to the fact that they were seated in the gallery at the time, surrounded by ancient tools of war. Brilliant proved herself to be quite knowledgeable about warfare too and she had much to say about the subject. In warfare, unicorns were often delegated to the role of using magic, everything from spells meant to target a single individual, to area-of-effect spells to different supportive spells to evacuating the wounded from the field of battle. However, not all unicorns were at their best with complex spells but every unicorn had some talent in telekinesis. Some unicorns, mares and stallions alike, would receive special training in the use of pony melee weapons, often using them in tandem with a shield to provide extra protection. As Brilliant had told him, unicorns using only magic in battle might have been true thousands of years ago, but unicorns in the Royal Guard or army these days didn’t place such limitations on themselves. Wandering along and inspecting the weapon racks and glass display cases, he found other examples of weapons, not only from pony cultures, but also from other pony nations and other races. One weapon rack locked behind glass held a number of weapons made and used by griffons. A metal plaque on the case stated that the contents were taken as prizes from a battlefield a few decades after Luna’s banishment. There was a long, curved, single-edged sword, not of Asian design, but looking closer to European Middle Ages, not too dissimilar to the German Grosse Messer. Despite its worn appearance and age, the sword still appeared sharp, but the wooden handle had all but withered away. A dagger with a straight blade, long and pointy, unadorned steel and wooden handle that was in very poor condition. A small dented round shield, a buckler, meant to be held with one hand.  But the main attraction of the griffon weapon display was a bow of impressive craftsmanship. Large enough that Magnus could use it with ease, the bow looked as if a Mongolian archer and an English longbowman had worked together to combine the best of two worlds. The age of the bow was apparent, as were the cracks, and the thin layer of lacquer covering the bow was worn away in places, and here Magnus saw several thin layers of materials, revealing several types of wood in different colours and also what looked like bone as well. He concluded that the bow was a type of laminate/composite hybrid, meaning incredible draw strength was required to fully draw the bow.  Moving on to the other glass cases, each one held a few weapons or pieces of armour taken as loot from an ancient battlefield or simply held no description other than what race made and used them. The minotaur display was set against a wall, as the huge weapons within had to be supported against the rack on the wall. The huge swords, axes, and maces all required the use of both hands. However, no human could effectively use the weapons due to their enormous weight and size.  The weapons displayed in the diamond dog case were, quite simply, ugly in appearance. Swords, maces, daggers, and iron gauntlets with spikes on them lacking any decoration and finery, they were all simply practical. The weapons were, after all this time, completely free of rust, hammer marks roughly polished away, and the sharp edges still sparkled in the light of the gallery’s many chandeliers. Their lack of wear and tear after so much time had passed must have meant that the diamond dogs’ metallurgical skills were very high. Lastly, a display case held a number of pony weapons. A variety of swords of different types, double-bladed daggers meant to be wielded by magic, curved wing blades of different designs, short and long lances used by earth pony cavalry, and combat shoes with blades and spikes. Most of the weapons were polearms, as Magnus had been told by Brilliant that spears and the like were favoured weapons of ponies due to their ease of making and relatively little training they required. A forest of spears could stop nearly any charging army, she had said. The different sub-races had developed their own weapons suited to their strengths, abilities, and culture. The earth ponies favoured spears, lances, and iron shoes that increased the efficiency of their kicks, unicorns could wield a number of weapons due to their magic, and pegasi and bat ponies preferred bladed and spiked armoured boots and thin razor sharp blades that they attached to their wings. The sheer variety and ingenuity that went into the inventing and crafting of weapons belonging to so many different races and cultures surprised Magnus. Even ponies weren’t strangers to war, despite their friendly and honestly adorable appearance. Pondering the races of Equus, Magnus moved on, taking a peek at the other display cases and their contents. There was a variety of jewelry, talismans, and outright obscure items which defied his understanding, at least until he read the plaque on the side which said that the items had once been enchanted but that their enchantment had long since worn off. Then there were ancient scrolls and books, so old and worn that they were no longer readable. Tablets of different materials, telling of an ancient story or myth inscribed on it, figurines carved out of semi-precious gems, the list went on and on.  So caught up was Magnus that he lost track of time, and only came to his senses when he felt a tugging on his fetlocks. His mobile phone stood by his hoof, tugging on his hairs and the display showed the timer which had reached zero. “What? What’s with the timer?” Magnus asked. He hadn’t set the phone to ring. The phone pointed upwards and made a sleeping motion, both arms held on its side, as if imitating being asleep. “OH! Brilliant, right! Thanks, little guy.” Picking up his phone, it gave Magnus a thumbs up before sliding into his pocket. Leaving the gallery, Magnus made his way to the main hall and up the stairs to the second floor and Brilliant’s room. Knocking carefully on the door, Magnus called out. “Brilliant? Are you awake? It’s been an hour and half.” There was no reply. Magnus waited patiently, knowing that it might take an old mare a moment or two to get up or wake fully. But when no sound came, not from hooves on the floor or her voice, he knocked again. “Brilliant?” he asked again and received no answer. For several long moments, no sound was heard and Magnus grew concerned. Brilliant was very old and had bad legs. Did something happen to her? He feared the worst, which was why he decided to open the door and look inside. Brilliant’s room was the master bedroom of the house, at least that was what it looked like inside. It was large and covered in carpets, and with three large windows facing the courtyard. Between two windows stood a small fireplace carved out of black stone, big enough to warm the entire room, and in front of the fireplace stood a large comfy chaise lounge, large enough to seat several ponies, and a table in front of it. The right side of the room had several wardrobes pushed against the walls as well as an old, but stylish vanity, complete with a large mirror. Finally, to the left side of the room, was Brilliant’s bed. It was huge; an old, large, and stylish canopy bed draped in light blue curtains and with white linens. It looked good enough for a king, and more than enough for a pony herd. Even Magnus himself would’ve had more than enough room in it with some to spare. However, Brilliant was not here either.  Leaving her room and closing the door, Magnus found Brilliant coming from the other end of the hallway, already wearing a shawl on her head and what looked to be a knitted wool cape in the shape of a horse blanket on her back, fastened around her neck with a pair of buttons. “Were you coming to wake me up?” she asked and received a nod in reply.  “I was. Wondered where you had gotten off to,” said Magnus, feeling a bit of relief wash over him. For a moment, his mind had begun to drift to other, dark places, and a memory of a body on the floor. “I woke up just a while ago. When you get to be my age, you sleep lighter and for not as long. However, a good nap is needed now and then.” Brilliant led the way down to the entry hall. “I decided to get ready before we leave for town. A warm shawl and cape should be enough for now. The north wind gets a bit chilly this far north. The Crystal Empire isn’t far away, you know.” The wind made itself known, a gust playing with the windows and howling around every corner outside. Magnus shuddered. “Can’t say I like fall weather like this.” He took his new jacket from the hanger in the hallway and put it on. The inner wool lining was perfect in weather like this, nice and warm. “I prefer summer when it’s green and lively.” “Oh? Why is that?” Magnus gave a contented smile, even though his coming to Equus had cheated him out of a perfectly good summer. It was April when he had left Earth, and late summer when he came to Equestria. “Summer, sun, the weather’s warmer, everything is green and good. Things grow, all that good stuff. Can go fishing, camping, hiking, and walk in the forest.” Brilliant smiled knowingly. “Then I think you will like Hollow Shades when summer comes around then.”  Yes, Magnus had already figured out that Hollow Shades would be beautiful come summer, and he already had a few plans for when that time came around.   ***   The ride into town was a short one, but a bumpy one. The rain had turned the dirt road into a wide path of puddles and holes that constantly rocked the cart. Brilliant’s magic cart still amazed Magnus to no end. An endless line of possibilities came to mind as he thought of everything that the Come-To-Life spell could be used for. However, one specific possibility was darker than the others, and he wasn’t sure if it would fall under dark magic or necromancy. Who else to ask than the wiser one of the two. “Brilliant, this Come-To-Life spell of yours,” he ventured, carefully choosing his words. “This may sound a bit morbid, but can it be used to reanimate dead bodies?” Brilliant, normally occupied with watching the road, looked over to him, one eyebrow raised. “Now that is an odd question? Why do you ask?” She eyed Magnus with a suspicious look. “Call it academic curiosity. If I one day manage to learn this spell, I want to know how it works, on what it works, and specifically what not to use it on. I’m sure there are some magical taboos I don’t want to inadvertently break.” Brilliant’s usually warm smile vanished, and she went silent, as if gathering her thoughts. “There are taboos, yes, but you don’t have to worry about that. You lack the knowledge of such spells and that means you cannot break them.” “Good to know, but what about the spell?” “Simply answered, no. As far as I know, the Come-To-Life spell was created in such a way as to not reanimate bodies. There are spells that can do that though, dark magic of the worst kind, and the sooner you learn how to identify such magic and stay far away from it, the better. All they do is animate the body or the bones, similar to how my spell makes this cart move. Some ponies long ago believed that evil unicorns enslaved the souls of the dead when they raised dead bodies, but that is just an old pony tale.” Approaching town, Brilliant leaned over and lowered her voice. “Best not talk about dark magic or necromancy in public, or with anypony for that instance. It’s a good way for ponies to grow suspicious of you. Ponies gossip, you know?” Magnus nodded, satisfied with the knowledge bestowed upon him and promised himself to not talk about it. Now he understood why Luna reacted so strongly all those weeks ago when he asked her about necromancy; it was dark magic, and neither she nor her sister seemed overly fond of that stuff. Also, not knowing the spell benefited him. At least he wasn’t the next Kel’Thuzad. He never liked the Eastern and Western Plaguelands back in the days he played World of Warcraft. Sure, the zone had a good atmosphere and music that made the zone creepy, but good God, what a chore. Even though it rained and the wind blew, it didn’t stop ponies from being outside. The market was closing, and the last customers made their purchases before heading home, dressed in raincoats or with umbrellas on a saddle-like device on their backs. Fillies and colts, dressed for the weather, still played outside, jumping in puddles or darting from tree to tree for shelter while playing a game of tag. Idyllic and peaceful, even if the weather was not. Hammerstrike’s home was on Cypress Street, a street with tall trees with enormously thick trunks and tall enough to have at least two floors. Each tree was a home, some of which had additions built into them, making them look like tree houses built on branches, but of much greater quality than a group of children could make. Hammer and his herd's home looked like a giant walnut tree, a thick trunk with a deep rich brown colour, and a lush crown which still had a few green leaves clinging to it. Through windows in the trunk shone a warm light, promising a comfortable interior. “Here we are,” said Brilliant, parking the carriage on the side of the road and carefully walking off, making her way towards the door. Magnus jumped off, staring wide-eyed at the treehouse. “It looks amazing, and cozy too, from the outside.” “You have never been in a house like this, have you?” “No, this is my first time,” he replied, following Brilliant towards the red painted door, illuminated by the burning lantern hanging near it. Just a few seconds after knocking the door opened and a mare stood there. She was a bat pony mare with curly mane and tail of a deep brown and greyish blue coat and hazel eyes. Swirly Burl was her name, the first wife of Hammerstrike. “There you are!” she exclaimed with a friendly smile as soon as she saw Brilliant and Magnus, immediately going in for a hug with Brilliant, one which was happily returned. That hug, however, only went as far as Brilliant. Swirly Burl was in fact one of the ponies that had a problem with Magnus. Not that she didn’t like him or anything like that. No, she just couldn't figure him out like she could ponies or other creatures she was familiar with. Magnus had noticed just after Copper Nut told him a few weeks back, how the mare would sometimes stare at him or simply look as if she was wringing her brain over him, trying to solve him like a puzzle and getting nowhere. Frustrating to say the least. “And Magnus too,” Swirly said after breaking the hug with Brilliant, gently touching a hoof to his leg.  “Hello, Swirly, how are you?” he replied with a smile. Swirly was a nice mare and pleasant to talk to, like an early sixties housewife, the good kind. “Oh, just good, thank you. Now come in, you two; it’s cold outside and dinner will be ready soon.” Moving aside, Brilliant and Magnus walked inside, ever vigilant against the low doors. He had knocked his head and horn a few times so far, and knocking one's horn against the doorframe hurt the most of the two.  The inside of the tree was as cozy as a cottage and felt like one too. Although there were no flat walls due to the curvature of the tree as well as the ceiling, the floor was the only flat surface. The first room was a spacious living room with furniture of different kinds, curtains at the windows, shelves carved into the tree itself with books and ornaments, pictures on the walls, and a cast iron stove kept the room warm and nice, the flue pipe going through the walls and being insulated with thick layers of hardened clay. Two sets of stairs led further up the interior of the tree, and looking up Magnus had a wide view of the interior of the tree. The ceiling was lofty and the entire house felt extra spacious due to the height of the ceiling. All the lights in the living room had been dimmed; bat ponies eyes were sensitive to light, thus many bats tended to have a sort of twilight aesthetic in their homes. From one of the open doors in the living room, Hammerstrike peeked out, an apron around his neck and a ladle hooked on one of his wings thumb claws. “Hello, Mother, Magnus. Welcome to our house.” He left the kitchen to give his stepmother a quick hug and a hoof bump to Magnus. “Evening Hammer. Didn’t know you could cook.” Magnus pointed at the ladle in his wing. Hammerstrike was perhaps the tallest of Brilliant’s family, and he had the strength to rival an earth pony. However, some of his physical stature seemed diminished by the frilly apron he wore. “It’s a hobby. Hammering and working metal all day takes its toll, so sometimes taking time to carefully prepare dinner is my way of relaxing,” replied Hammer, walking back to the kitchen and began stirring the contents of a large pot. Magnus looked after the pony and caught a glimpse of the kitchen. It was large, looked homely, almost old-fashioned with a lot of wood furniture and a modern stove and fridge. The kitchen table was set for five, and the only thing missing was the dinner Hammer was finishing. The scent that came from whatever Hammer was making was pleasant, but Magnus already knew it didn’t contain meat or fish of any kind. So far he had been eating a lot of eggs and dairy products to keep up with his normal protein intake, and to be perfectly honest, he had begun craving meat. Still, pony food was good enough to fill a belly, as long as they kept hay and flowers out of it. Despite being able to eat them, they had either no taste, or tasted like greenery. Brilliant and Swirly had each taken a seat in the living room and were chatting as normal while waiting for dinner. However, Magnus knew Hammer had three wives. “Where are… um, what were their names again…” Magnus tapped his head. One was definitely named after a flower. “Foxglove… and Night Phenomenon?” “Problems with remembering their names?” Swirly chuckled, obviously remembering the first time he was introduced to them. To Magnus, some pony names were harder to remember than others. “They’re still upstairs getting ready.” Magnus nodded. Foxglove was a mare that cared very much about her appearance. Her mane was at all times impeccably coiffed, and Night Phenomenon tended to wear clothes much more than other ponies he had seen. From what he remembered back at the castle, she always tended to wear colourful scarves, and the few times they had been outside, like Harvest Day, she preferred stylish capes on her back. Magnus walked around the room, exploring and taking a closer look at photographs and what they decorated their home with. Like most ponies, Hammer, Swirly, Foxglove and Night were rather family oriented. Having four children in total, their photos had a place of honour up on the wall. Small tourist trinkets from various cities around Equestria were displayed on shelves. They even had a tiny statue that had an uncanny resemblance to the Statue of Liberty. The Pony of Unity, the plaque underneath it said.  But Magnus couldn’t understand how ponies could hollow out trees yet not kill it outright. The floor was smooth, like it had been sanded down, and the walls looked the same. Touching a hand to it, he couldn’t feel any tool marks, but he could see the grains of the wood itself, and covering it was a thick layer of transparent lacquer. Could this be the secret? Some way to seal the moisture? The chattering behind him increased in volume, and turning around Magnus found Night and Foxglove descending the stairs, eagerly greeting Brilliant and him. Foxglove had her mane in a thick braid, suiting her red hair well and almost black coat. Night Phenomenon had deemed the dinner as a good occasion to wear a black skirt with white trim and white blouse. It looked good on her, matching her deep blue coat and deep green mane and tail, almost like the aurora. While Night sat down next to Brilliant and Swirly, Foxglove walked over to Magnus, stood up on her hind legs and gave him a light hug, which was still a strange experience. “Welcome to our home,” she said after getting back on all four hooves, before looking at the wall behind him. “What were you looking at? You had your hands on the wall.” “Trying to figure out how you can hollow out a tree and not kill it,” Magnus replied. “Oh? Have you discovered our secrets yet?” she teased. “You know, I am in the business on how we do it.” Magnus began thinking back to the few conversations he had with her, specifically if he had asked her what she did for a living, and came up empty. “I’d say some sort of bat pony magic or ability," he guessed. Foxglove chuckled. “Ah, close, but not quite. There is no magic included, but I think we can say it is an ability of sorts, or rather, skill.” She walked past Magnus and touched a hoof to the wall, rubbing gently. “See this lacquer on the wall? It is a special recipe hoofed down between us bat ponies; sap from a variety of trees and a few other ingredients. It takes a long time to make, but it can last for a century.” “I did notice the shiny surface, but I didn’t think lacquer could make such a difference.” “It does, and the lacquer does have some special abilities, but extra care must be taken when the interior of the tree is carved,” explained Foxglove. “Carving can only be done during winter, when the tree is laden with water and the temperatures are below freezing, and the carvers must be careful not to hollow too much of the tree; enough grain must remain to make sure the tree can transport enough water to its branches. It must be done quickly, and as soon as a room is completed, the lacquer is applied so that the tree doesn’t lose so much moisture. Four or five layers are enough for it to dry in a matter of days.” “Aha, I see,” said Magnus with a sagely nod, but in reality, he didn't. He was pretty sure that on Earth, doing this would not work at all. However, considering all the impossible things that were possible in this world, it sort of made a level of sense. “It is a very old way of making a house. Our ancestors brought this method back from the old land, but we think they changed the way they did it because the old land was said to be tropical," she explained before sighing. "Sadly, tree carving and sap boiling, which I do, is an art that is slowly vanishing. It can take half a winter to carve a tree large enough for a herd of four and the foals, and collecting enough sap for one treehome can take as much as eight months. You can see why houses made of brick and stone are also increasing in our town. However, a properly made treehouse will last for at least three hundred years. Our house is a good example; it was completed one hundred and ninety four years ago.” Magnus looked up from Foxglove and looked around the room. It looked new, it smelled like fresh forest, and the atmosphere was nothing like any log cabin or forest shack he had ever set foot in. The house actually felt alive in a strange way which, considering it was still alive… Hammerstrike eventually stated that dinner was finally done and they all took their seats. The bat pony proved himself an able cook with a dinner of his own creation; a variety of local root vegetables covered in batter made of roasted chestnut flour and spices, fried in a pan with butter and served with salad and rice and a tropical fruit juice for drink. Dessert was as easy as they come; a variety of half-frozen berries with a drizzle of sugar and loads of cream. Magnus happily chewed on the dessert, savouring the berries crushed between his teeth and letting their juices fill his mouth. They still tasted fresh and of late summer, and on a rainy chilly night like today, they were perfect. Hammer gave him a few glances now and then, Magnus noticed, probably to see if his cooking was up to a human's standards. “Good?” he asked. Magnus swallowed the berries and scooped up more. “Tastes like summer,” he happily replied. “Is this something a human would normally eat?” Night Phenomenon asked, daintily eating tiny spoonfuls at a time, like a proper lady at a fancy dinner party. “Some people do. Desserts vary between cultures, countries, and places back on Earth, as do types of foods. Some of the things I make… made, for dinner, certain people would frown upon, or outright be disgusted by, and vice versa,” Magnus replied. “What do you mean? Meat and fish?” Foxgloved asked, to which Magnus nodded. “Humans are omnivores; if the situation calls for it, or if we are starving, we’ll be willing to eat just about anything. But normally, however, not all people like fish, or meat for that matter. Vegetarians, for example; while they might like the taste of meat, they may object to eating it due to the conditions animals are raised in.” Hammer and his wives gave each other a sideways look, and Magnus noticed it. Meanwhile, Brilliant happily ate as if the topic didn’t even faze her. “The conditions the animals are raised in are… not good?” Night ventured, carefully selecting her words. Magnus sighed. “People expect farms where animals are raised for food to be held to a high standard, and while many farms keep to these standards, some do not,” he concluded. There was no way he would talk about slaughterhouses with these ponies, and certainly not about the places where animals were mistreated before they were killed off. “Oh, I see. I understand,” Night replied, and judging by the look on her face, as well as that of Foxglove, Hammer, and Swirly, they understood what he meant. “It is an interesting topic,” Brilliant interjected suddenly, using her magic to push the empty dessert bowl away, and seemingly undisturbed by Magnus’ explanation. “I once tried meat in Griffonia; I didn’t know what I was ordering and I can’t say I liked it enough to try a second time. But Magnus, when it comes to food and morals, what type of person are you?” Magnus gave it a few moments to mull over Brilliant’s query, and the answer was obvious to him. “I eat what I like because I like what I like. We all need to eat something. What we choose to eat is entirely up to ourselves and what morals we follow. That’s not to say that I’m an immoral person because I like meat, I just hope that whatever I ate had a good life.” His answer hung in the air as each of the ponies assembled around the table had a few moments to think his reply over. “A sensible answer, I guess,” said Hammerstrike, sounding as if he wanted to leave the topic alone for now. After the topic of food had passed and dessert had been consumed, they all retired to the living room for a cup of tea and more chatter. Magnus added to the conversation where he could, but mostly he fell back to his usual routine when it came to small talk and gossip; he listened. The head teacher at the school was planning to retire soon and the new head teacher was most likely the assistant teacher. The mayor was planning to travel to Canterlot and meet with Princess Celestia to ask for additional funding for new medical equipment for the local hospital. Old Mrs. Snowdrift's lumbago was acting up again, and Earth Shatter’s eldest son had recently been seen visiting the local guard station with some papers tucked under a wing and leaving with a huge smile on his face. It all reminded Magnus of his own little town back in Montana. Every other day some of the local elders would meet at Harriet Becker's Bakery for coffee, tea, and something sweet to eat, and then proceed to solve the world's problems all while sounding like a chicken coop. Just small town things. Just thinking about it made Magnus’ homesickness act up. He really missed his hometown and the thought of his peaceful hometown nestled with the plains to the east and the Rockies to the west put a serious dampener on his mood. Just then, Magnus was tossed back to the present when Hammerstrike spoke.  “Anvil visited the smithy again today,” the burly stallion said, looking a bit bummed out. “He just came in, sat down, had a cup or two and watched us work like he always does, then left, looking as miserable as when he left.” Brilliant shook her head sadly. “He just can’t stay away, can he? Well, I guess that’s what happens when you've grown up in the smithy. You miss the place, the air, the atmosphere. Can’t really blame him though.” “You think he comes back every day just to remember? He has grandchildren; would it hurt him to spend some time with them?” Foxglove added with a small shake of her head. Night lifted her teacup to her lips and sipped it daintily. “I know he foalsits them from time to time, but I heard from Sparrow Song that he rarely tells them fairy tales. Most of his stories are about metal he shaped and armour he repaired. If he ever tells them an actual fairy tale, it’s the ones about blacksmiths making something amazing, magical or beautiful to help a hero or heroine. Luna’s tail,” she finished, an odd thing she swore to as well. It didn’t take Magnus long to figure out who they were talking about. He had seen one character come into the metal working shop just about every day and just watch them work. “This Anvil you’re talking about, is that the old bat pony stallion who came into the smithy every day? Rarely spoke a word?” asked Magnus. Hammerstrike nodded solemnly. “Glowing Anvil, Iron Tower’s father. Their family’s been in the metalworking business for ages. Glowing is… was a master blacksmith, probably the best one in Hollow Shades for a few centuries at least.” “So he’s retired, that’s why he isn't working anymore? Is he regretting retiring?” Hammer sighed and emptied his cup. “There was an accident about six years ago.” He paused, staring ahead as if he replayed a memory in his mind. “Anvil had bought an old disused set of train wheels complete with axles and wanted to cut them into smaller pieces. See, train wheels and axles are nothing but good metal; a good investment. So, we helped him get the wheels into the shop and used chains and pulleys to lift one up and into the forge to heat up and make them easier to cut. Then… the pulley chain snapped.” Magnus felt an involuntary tremble run down his spine. Had Anvil stood underneath the wheel when it broke loose? “The wheel bounced off of the forge and went straight towards Anvil. Broke both of his forelegs. It was… bad. Bone fragments piercing his skin and…” Hammer stopped, shaking his head. It became clear to Magnus that the accident had affected Hammer badly. “Half the town heard him scream.” Foxglove offered a comforting hoof to her husband. “I was nearby and was one of the ponies that carted him off to the hospital. Silky Touch was working that day at the hospital; she told me that it was one of the worst injuries she had ever seen. Both of Anvil’s forelegs had multiple fractures; he was close to having to amputate both of his forelegs. Doctor Pulse worked on him all throughout the night and well into the day and managed to save both his legs—nothing short of a miracle if you ask me.” “A miracle, yes.” Hammer nodded, using the thumb claw on his wing to lift the teapot, filling his cup. “We all went to visit him a couple of days after. Despite the accident, he was in a good mood and blew it off as a common injury, something all blacksmiths must go through at least once, and said he’d be back before we knew it. But… his stay became longer than anypony could imagine.” Magnus furrowed his brows. “How long?” “Six months.” Hammer passed the pot over to Brilliant, who filled her cup. “Severe nerve damage and complications from the fractures that required even more surgery, not to mention a rather severe infection. He was confined to his bed for all that time and time took its toll. I swear, I saw the difference in him each time we visited. He lost muscle mass, got thinner, he even began to appear meek, not like the stallion cut from stone we knew.” Six months could surely take its toll, Magnus guessed. He had plenty of visits to the hospital under his belt due to his long lasting headaches, and was even admitted to the hospital when he was a teenager after an intense case that lasted for weeks, which he now knew was related to his lack of magic. Transported to Northern Rockies Medical Center, a tumour or some form of brain damage was suspected and he underwent numerous tests, but the doctors had found nothing. Two weeks, monitored each and every day and ordered to remain still just in case and coupled with lousy hospital food made him lose a small amount of weight, and also made Joseph’s wallet lose weight. But six months? He couldn’t even imagine the boredom he’d suffer. “Then there was the nerve damage,” Hammer continued with a sigh. “When he was finally released from the hospital, he had to learn how to walk again, and he was as thin as you saw him at the shop.” “I didn’t even recognise him when I first saw him after the accident, so I went over to say hello to him, thinking he was new in town. I was so embarrassed,” Brilliant added. “Anvil wanted to get back to work, but he’d lost all strength in his forelegs. You have to be able to use your forelegs properly in order to be a blacksmith, but the best Anvil could do was use the tongs to move metal around and barely do that. No more hammering, no more heavy work, no more head of the forge and shaping steel. He went from being the best blacksmith to being -in his own words- useless. It affected him greatly.” “So he was forced to quit,” said Magnus, understanding what happened to the old blacksmith. “He was.” Hammer nodded. “But a forced retirement was not something he had in mind. He loved working metal, still does, but he can’t. The smithy doesn’t get much work other than what we have, but we had a bit more work that only Anvil could do before his injury; he was that good. But having to hire somepony to help him all day would cut back on our salaries. He knew that as well and willingly retired so that the rest of us could get by and not have to cut back.” said Hammer, doing a sort of air quotes movements with his hooves when saying willingly. “Retirement also affected his mood,” Night Phenomenon continued, accepting the pot from Brilliant. “It’s been some time since anypony has seen him smile; I believe he’s depressed. It also seems to have affected him physically. You might think Anvil is old, but he just turned sixty six years old.” Magnus blinked, not quite believing what he heard. He had guessed Anvil was a bit younger than Brilliant, perhaps ninety plus, but only in his sixties and looking so old? It made some manner of sense; Anvil did look as if he had worked hard his entire life. He must’ve been a muscular pony once, but his hospital stay had effectively forced him to lose weight and muscle mass, thus explaining his saggy skin adding wrinkles to his face and body and made him very thin and wiry. “Anvil sounds like the kind of pony who could very well teach the next generation of blacksmiths. He must have a lifetime of experience behind him. Hasn’t someone suggested that to him?” Magnus inquired, hopeful but was quite certain the old pony had heard such an offer and rejected it. “He’s heard that several times before,” Hammer replied. “But he always says that he’s not a teacher or doesn’t want to teach. He spent his entire life in the forge, and he would like to stay in the forge for many more years to come. These days, all he does is sit there and watch us work, just reminiscing, wanting to come back.” ‘I think I get the old pony then,’ Magnus thought to himself. Anvil loved his job; it was even in his cutie mark. He was born to work and shape steel and now he couldn’t do it anymore. As a pony that loved his job, not being able to do it anymore would be devastating. And also on a deeper level, Magnus understood Anvil quite well. When Magnus was young and his childhood fantasies were very real, playing wizards was his favourite game. Imagining magic, sorcery, spell and incantations was something he was very good at, even Joseph had commented on his grandson’s very vivid imagination. But then Magnus grew older and he learned about the world and one terrible truth.  There was no such thing as magic. Magicians on TV used sleight of hand and misdirection to fool their audiences. Illusions weren’t magic, card tricks weren’t magic, mind reading wasn’t magic, nothing was magic! It was all tricks, hidden compartments, not seeing what you thought you saw, and an accomplice, an assistant placed in the crowd that chose an already cleverly marked card from the deck. Realizing this at the age of twelve had been a devastating turning point in young Magnus’ life. All he had ever wanted was fake and the revelation caused the young boy to become depressed, and for several weeks he shut himself off from the world, pretending his headaches were so bad that he had to stay at home, submerging himself in games, films and books to forget the real world outside his window and forget how the world had lied to him all his life. It was a tough time in his short life, but he gradually had to accept that that was what the world was like. He had to move on in a magicless world and leave his childhood dreams behind. This was how Magnus understood Anvil; the old stallion had his dreams shattered and now had to find something else to do, and Magnus had his own dreams shattered and had to find a new direction in life. Difference was, Magnus had now been given a new chance to rediscover magic and perhaps make some childhood fantasies become real. Magnus’ thoughts drifted away from the conversation, his mind elsewhere, pondering the future and its possibilities. Magic, spells, conjuration, illusions, incantations, all those old childhood memories of his imaginary spells came back, one by one. Happy little snippets from his childhood. And the tools of his trade. Shaboom. A magical staff made from the straightest stick he found near Joseph’s cabin. Megablast. A fantastically powerful wand made from a piece of rosewood that he found in the neighbors backyard. The Hat of More-Spells-Than-Anyone-Knows, the too warm top hat. Whoever wore it would know all spells in existence. The Solid Cape of Stupidness. A very long cape that made whoever wore it shielded from all harm and made you trip on the hem because it was too long.  The raiment and relics of Alakazam, the most powerful wizard that has ever existed, A.K.A. Magnus, age five to twelve. When Magnus used to believe with all his heart and mind. Magnus was quite sure that if he was ten years old again, he’d know a spell that could fix old Glowing Anvil’s forelegs. After all, back in those days, there was nothing he could not do. Back then, it was only his imagination that set the bar, and quite often that bar had to be raised higher every few weeks. But now Magnus knew the world, and a little of this one too.  He sighed. Even in a magical world there were limits to what one could do. Magic couldn’t heal Glowing Anvil’s forelegs or fix his nerves, magic couldn’t help him find a new path in life, and magic couldn’t change his mind.  Magic was not all-powerful. Magnus sighed again. It sucked to grow up, and it sucked to not be able to help someone that really needed it.